


To Be With You

by solochanel



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Anxiety, Armie has a moment, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Reunion Fic, Timmy is a soft boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 04:15:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15922676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/solochanel/pseuds/solochanel
Summary: And Armie was still feeling starved for more Timmy.





	To Be With You

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a product of my very overactive imagination so of course, treat this as the cursory disclaimer that this is a work of fiction and an extension of how much I love these two and their boundless love.
> 
> Beta proofed by the lovely dreamofhorses.
> 
> Happy reading xx.

 

Outside, an ambulance’s wail cut through the quiet night. Armie turned his head to listen to it as it faded into the distance. Inside his apartment, Armie inspected the face of the man laying curled up against his side, still unmoving in his slumber. He was pressed into the crook of Armie’s shoulder, an arm draped heavily across Armie’s chest, the fingers loose around his chest hair. One leg thrown across Armie’s thighs.

 

Armie trailed his fingers from rib to hip, pausing where hip met thigh, to take in Timmy’s face as he slept on. Not even his eyelashes fluttered. He was usually a pretty light sleeper, but after booking it back to Manhattan, Timmy had arrived after an 11 hour flight, eyes a little red-rimmed, exuberant as ever, but equally exhausted. 

 

“I couldn’t sleep. Way too nervous,” he had mumbled into Armie’s neck, hugging him tightly. Armie had swept him into a full body hug the minute he had stepped through the apartment doors. Pressed his nose right behind Timmy’s ear where the scent of him was the strongest and inhaled deeply. Timmy’s car had taken him straight to Armie’s Manhattan apartment from JFK and Armie had kept tabs on him the whole way.

 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Armie had whispered into his neck. Timmy had only smiled, tipping on his toes to press himself more along Armie’s front.

 

Armie had kissed his hairline, eyelids, his nose, his cheeks (Timmy giggled) and then his neck. Timmy had hummed appreciatively, twined his arms around Armie’s neck and kissed him softly.

 

“I missed you so fucking much,” he had sighed into Timmy’s crown. Kissed him softly against the door of the apartment until his lips tingled and he felt

light-headed. Sunk his fingertips into his waist, his hips.

 

He didn’t know if anything could convey the way his heart had grown three sizes with Timmy in his arms again. Their bodies were pressed fully and flush against each other, Armie intent on not letting him get even 2 cm away from him for the foreseeable future.

 

***

 

All day, Armie had chewed through his bottom lip and moved from room to room perhaps a dozen times, watching the clock inch closer and closer to, Timmy’s arrival time. Timmy had texted him two rock on emojis when he landed and the Statue of Liberty and Armie had felt a burst of warmth shoot through him. Now, in the New York night, Armie let his hand explore Timmy’s naked flank, his hands meeting warm skin. He pressed a gentle kiss into Timmy’s shoulder, letting his hand comb through his hair. It was shorter, but still soft and tuggable.

 

Earlier, they ate on the couch, made out lazily, talked in whispers and laughed loudly, made love on the living room floor then again in the bathroom and had an encore in Armie’s bed. And Armie was still feeling starved for more Timmy.

 

***

 

He was aware he was being needy, which was spilling into a whole new realm of nervousness caused by separation anxiety. But right now, he wanted to focus on the boy in his arms and less on any fears of being separated again.

 

4 months ago when they’d had a conversation about how to handle being apart for 4 blasted months, Armie had let realistic him lead the conversation as he and Timmy lay next to each other in a hotel room on Sunset Boulevard. It was the day after the Oscars and he was sprawled in Timmy’s bed, watching him putter around as he toweled his hair, dressed in only blue shorts, fresh from the shower. Timmy’s wet hair was curlier and darker when wet and the smell of his cowash filled the room.

 

“It’s kind of the nature of our jobs, isn’t it?” Armie said, his arm folded behind his head, one knee bent, watching Timmy moisturize by the vanity. “Being apart for long periods of time.”

 

Timmy had glanced over at him as he grabbed a bottle of styling solution and mousse. Shot Armie a smile in the mirror as he spritzed some gunk in his palm and tousled it through his hair from root to tip.

 

“That it is.”  Repackaged the bottles in his transparent product case. “It doesn’t make it any easier though.”

 

Armie watched his fingers. He loved how long and elegant they were. His eyes followed Timmy as he climbed into bed, walking his knees over to turn out the lights on the night table, settled down next to Armie and pulled the sheets over them both as he turned to press into Armie’s side.

 

“FaceTime is going to have to be it,” he murmured, bringing his arm up and around Timmy’s waist, leaving a finger trail. He chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully.

 

Armie had looked over at him, pulling him in flush against his body. Timmy had looked up at him, sadness lined into his eyes and Armie could see the worry lines around his mouth. The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

 

Timmy could never hide anything he was feeling and Armie loved him even more for it.

 

He rolled them easily so he was on top, Timmy spreading his legs so he could sink into the vee. He pressed their lips together once, twice, then three more times in quick succession. That earned a broad smile from Timmy, who slung his hands up and around Armie’s neck, sinking his fingers into the hair at his nape, wrapping his legs around Armie so his heels and Armie’s calves were aligned.

 

Armie kissed him again, lingering to nip and roll Timmy’s thicker bottom lip between his, pressed their foreheads together and sighed.

 

“FaceTime it is.”

 

And they had. Almost every day, every waking moment time difference be damned. Several FaceTime sessions where Timmy was sound asleep with the phone propped on a pillow while Armie just watched him or went about his morning routine became their every day. Even one where Timmy had him on mute during a video call for a first look at Beautiful Boy at Cinemacon, which was opening in the fall. Armie never truly stopped craving Timmy’s presence and Timmy had barely budged when Armie insisted that maybe they shouldn’t during an actual press event.

 

“No one’s going to know,” Timmy had said smoothing over Armie’s worries. “They won’t be able to tell anyway.”

 

When he watched the video that got posted on Twitter after and caught Timmy’s surreptitious glances, his smiles whenever his eyes dipped to look down where his attention was clearly being drawn elsewhere, Armie could feel the warmth that spread through him all the way to his toes.

 

***

He kissed Timmy’s nose again. Checked that he was all tucked in, turned the A/C down and gently rearranged them to lessen the pressure on his left arm a bit. Swiped his right hand across Timmy’s waist to pause at his hip. His eyes swept over the digital clock on the nightstand that read 2:36 a.m. and listened to the steady bray of Timmy’s heart where their chests met.

 

Armie was happier than he’d felt in months. Barring the visits with the kids, this was the best part of August so far. He was content to lie awake and Timmy watch, drink in every inch of his skin, noting where he’d gotten broader in the shoulders and in his ribs during the shooting of ‘The King’. His chest a little firmer, but still so soft, pliable, _his_.

 

Tonight, he’d ordered pizza and they had cuddled up on the couch to eat. A plain cheese for Timmy, meat lovers for him, and when he’d brought out the chicken nuggets Timmy had insisted he was spoiling him.

 

“That’s kinda what boyfriends do,” he had said kissing the top of Timmy’s head as he set the box of chicken nuggets in his lap. He sat back down, pulling Timmy’s socked feet into his lap, massaging his soles. “Tomorrow we can go get bagels for breakfast. Or all day boozy brunch. I know you missed that.”

 

Timmy had only grinned and bit his lip, watched Armie’s hands as they worked. Tentatively reached out rub his knuckles across Armie’s stubble. Armie had leaned into it, craving more.

 

“I really missed you,” he whispered. “I actually love that I’m being spoiled right now. I don’t want to do shit for the next week and a half.”

 

Armie leaned in, kissed him deeply. “Good,” he breathed out. He pulled Timmy into his lap. Pressed kisses up Timmy’s neck, his jawline, before leaning back, breathing heavily. “An endless supply of sex and food sound all right to you for the next week and a half?”

 

Timmy surged in to kiss him on the lips. “Deal.”

 

***

 

He never wanted them to be separated again. And yet in just a few weeks they would be off for another round of promo tours for their respective films .Timmy would be on double duty,  off to Boston for 3 weeks of a project he had been talking about excitedly for months. They would be together for TIFF (a small respite) and he probably wouldn’t be back home until Christmas, then his birthday and they hadn’t even talked about New Year’s Eve plans because he might not even be in the country. Armie had talked to his manager about getting some time off when he went back to work in October, but the chances were looking slim.

 

Armie let his eyes rove over Timmy’s sleeping form and realized as he watched his chest rise and fall just how in love with him he was. He swallowed thickly, tucking his head into Timmy’s neck, suddenly in need of more contact. His throat felt dry. His hands were clammy. He blinked rapidly to quell some of the sudden pressure in his chest.

 

Until today Timmy had been away from New York for more than 5 months and the weight of the separation hit him like a tow truck. He knew they were actors, he knew they were freelancers by trade, he knew they had this conversation ad nauseam for weeks right up to Timmy’s flight out of New York to London. He knew that it wouldn’t be the first or last time they would go long periods without seeing each other. He knew he had said they would get through it no matter how rough it would be. And it had been rough at times, but they were here and they were together.

 

Yet, he was breathless and more terrified than he had been during the time they had been apart. He had kept it together then. Armie tried to identify the source of the sudden whammy of separation anxiety. Timmy was right next to him. In his arms. His warm exhales against his neck. They had made love only a couple hours earlier.

 

_Timmy was right next to him._

 

“Fuck,” Armie exhaled, pressing his the heel of his hand into his forehead. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

 

He squeezed his eyes closed,  his breath coming out in harsh, irregular whooshes. His forehead suddenly clammy and his pulse racing.

 

Beside him Timmy’s eyes slid open, groggy and eyes unfocused.his tongue heavy and looking confuddled. He blinked several times and shot up, alarmed.

 

“Armie?”

 

Armie’s chest felt tight.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Timmy reached for his cheek, pressed one hand against his forehead, swiped both hands down to cup his cheeks. He flipped on the lamp on the night table. Frightened eyes bore into Armie’s pale face.

 

“What happened? Are the kids okay?”

 

Armie almost sobbed as he tried to take a lungful of air, nodding his head frantically. “They’re fine,” he managed, struggling to find his breath. 　

 

Timm sat up quickly. “Then what -“

 

“I’m in love with you and I can’t-“ Armie stuttered out. His hands formed fists against his forehead and he rocked slowly. “I-I-I can’t b-breathe.”

 

Timothée’s worried face got more worried. “I’m in love you too.” He put a tentative hand against Armie’s chest, where his heartbeat was fast. Palpitations. “I know you love me. I’ve known that for a while now. Can you focus on your breathing? The sound of my voice? Please?”

 

Armie covered his eyes with his hands, his breathing staggered. Timmy scrambled out from the blankets to rub his hands along Armie’s torso, pressing his palms against Armie’s ribs. His eyes took in Armie’s laboured breathing.

 

“Can you sit up? Just lean into these pillows here. Yeah, take your time -  just like that. Remember the anxiety game?” He rubbed soothing circles on Armie’s back as he nodded that he did. “Blue first.”

 

Armie took a deep shuddering breath. Cast his eyes around for something blue. “Bath towel. Painting. Outside of The Wire book. Your shorts. The bowl.”

 

“Good, good,” Timmy said, moving to sit back on his hunches, still rubbing his back. “How about something red?”

 

“Your hoodie. F-fuck. Nothing else, “ Armie said  eyes dashing around the room. He took a deep breath. “I see green - water bottle.”

 

Timmy nodded encouragingly. Watched as his breathing returned to normal steadily and continued to rub soothing circles into his back. Noted the way Armie’s nose was tinged pink and tears were bleeding at the corner of his eyes.

 

He reached across the night table and pulled out a couple Kleenex tissuee. Dabbed at Armie’s eyes. Cupped his cheeks and ran his fingers over them slowly.

 

“Can you tell me how you’re feeling in a bit? Baby, you’re doing so well.”

 

Armie’s eyes filled with tears again. His head was suddenly pounding.

 

“I don’t know what just happened.”

 

Timmy shook his head and wrapped him up in a hug. Armie pressed his face into Timmy’s chest, closing his eyes tightly. “My head hurts.”

 

“That’s perfectly fine,“ he said into Armie’s hair, kissing his crown. “I can fix that. If I go to the bathroom to get you some water and some painkillers, will that be okay?”

 

Armie shook his head into Timmy’s chest, a sob in his throat.

 

“How about if I talk to you the whole way there?” Timmy bit his lip, rubbing his hands up and down Armie’s sides.

 

Armie thought about it, looked up at Timmy and nodded once. Timmy kissed his lips softly, lingering for a bit They were salty, warm and slightly swollen.

 

“Okay. Just watch me. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere but to the bathroom and back, okay?”

 

Armie nods mutely, wiping at the tears on his chin. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

 

“Wow. Fuck me.”

 

“I heard that,” came Timmy’s voice as the medicine cabinet opened and closed. “In this house we don’t beat ourselves up about anxiety issues.”

 

Armie managed a weak smile. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

 

Timmy popped his head out, smirking. “Okay?”

 

“Me okay,” Armie whispered.

 

“Sweet. Gimme 5. Just the water left now.” The sound of running water filled the bedroom and Armie focused on it for a moment. “You know, we can talk about what made you anxious whenever you’re ready.”

 

Armie’s eyes closed. He swallowed thickly. Fumbled with the rolled up Kleenex in his fingers as Timmy emerged from the bathroom, equipped with painkillers, a glass of water, and a cold wet cloth.

 

He handed the wet cloth to Armie, who swept it across his face. Breathed into it as he swiped across his face. It smelled mildly of peppermint oil. Just the right amount.

 

“Take these,” Timmy said, putting two Aleve in Armie’s hands. “Works like magic.”

 

Armie tossed them back, followed it up with water, wiped his mouth and put the glass on the bedside table.

 

Timmy pressed a hand against his forehead. “You feel a little warm, but I can turn the A/C down for that. How are you feeling now?”

 

_Terrified._

 

Armie nodded his head. “Okay for now.” He pressed his head into Timmy’s tummy, pulling him in tighter and wrapping his arms around him. Timmy let his finger trail through Armie’s hair, massaging into his scalp slowly. That always made him sleepy.

 

Timmy looked down at where Armie was pressed against his tummy. Let a palm rest on his back. “Armie, when was the last time you had an anxiety attack? If you don’t re-”

 

“Before the divorce,” he whispered, closing his eyes.“Around March.”

 

Timmy hummed, rubbing soothing circles into Armie’s shoulder blades. Patted Armie’s back.

 

“Let’s get back into bed.”

 

Timmy arranges them so he’s flat on his back and Armie is lying on top, his arms around Timmy and face pressed into his neck.Timmy caresses his arms, repeating the soothing up and down movement, squeezing Armie’s shoulders occasionally.

 

“I love you,” Timmy whispers after a moment. “So much. I’m in love with you and we both know I have been for a long time, You’re always safe with me no matter what. You know that hasn’t changed right?”

 

Armie looks up, blinking as their eyes find each other, kissing the inside of Timmy’s wrist. “I know.”

 

Timmy trails his fingers past Armie’s cheeks, cupping his jaw. Armie swallows thickly. Closes his eyes. He starts to find the words. Remembers his therapist’s advice.

 

_Try to use your words._

 

“One second I was watching you sleep,” he starts, his voice thick. “And then the next thing, I’m overcome with weird separation anxiety even though you’re lying right next to me and we just had sex. Not even two hours ago.”

 

Timmy lies very still, his hands paused in their exploration of Armie’s forearms.

 

Armie rushes on, eyes opening. “And then I started thinking about that talk we had about being apart for really long times, how we’d deal with it and obviously we’re actors and you’re going to be busy, I’m going to be busy, we’re going to get separated one hundred ways from Sunday and I know it but I was thinking about awards season and Little Women and Dune and my upcoming shit and-“ Armie takes a huge rattling breath and looks at Timmy, whose eyes are already searching him, rapt.

 

Armie’s eyes fill with tears. “And I couldn’t breathe when I realized how long work can separate us.”

 

Take a steadying inhale. “And I can’t breathe because I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to being away from you. It was just 5 months.”

 

Timmy is silent for a moment. The only sound is Armie’s breath as it evens out slowly.

 

“In this moment, it sucks. I was thinking about October and January and March and all I could feel was overwhelmed. I don’t want you to go away again.  And it’s stupid. So stupid.” Armie wipes angrily at his eyes as Timmy sits up, his face indistinguishable.

 

His hands resume their travel, gripping Armie’s shoulder blades and smoothing out the skin. Timmy trails his fingertips up and down. Armie looks up at him, sniffles. Timmy presses his mouth against his temple, kisses it once. Twice.

 

“Before we became this - like officially, officially  - I used to have the worst withdrawals,” he says slowly, his eyes on Armie. “It got really bad sometimes. And I remember wanting you near more than anything. In London. I’d wake up sometimes and I’d catch a whiff of you and I’d follow…”

 

Timmy seems lost in thought and Armie stares. Timmy finds his eyes again.

 

“Being away from each other always ends up being a shitty time. I never get used to it. Budapest was a beautiful hell..” He takes a deep, measured breath.  “I get it,” he whispers. “And I don’t - shouldn’t apologize - but I’m still -” Timmy takes a deep breath - “I’m still sorry-“

 

Armie surges up to kiss him. Pulls him into a kiss that is soft and salty from both of their tears. Armie laps a tongue at the saltiness and Timmy huffs out a laugh.

 

Armie presses another kiss against that laughing mouth, smiling.

 

“I chose you and I’d choose you a hundred times. Don’t be sorry.”

 

Timmy nods and shrugs, his eyelashes wet. “Can’t help it.” He reaches for Armie’s hands, twines them with his and kisses his knuckles. “I’m glad you did. Every day. You’re kinda it for me.”

 

“Kinda?” Armie muses.

 

Timmy laughs. “Love of my short life.”

 

Timmy settles back down, Armie nuzzling into his neck, yawning hugely. He’s officially approaching very sleepy territory.

 

“Man, I’m so beat. Maybe we should just go on vacation. Like an extended, extended vacation. Maybe we’re both overworked.”

 

“Maybe?” Timmy pokes Armie in the sternum. “Sir, there is no maybe there. Mister 15 months of promo and 3 movies and a play in one year, 2 upcoming. You definitely need a vacation.”

 

Armie smiles. Swipes his hands back and forth across Timmy’s chest. Kisses where his heart beats soundly in his chest.

 

Timmy’s hands swipe up and down his back. “I definitely need one too. We can plan for it. Go wherever. I can book the tickets. Vacation with just us. Maybe 3 weeks. I’ll talk to Brian tomorrow. Well, today.”

 

He kisses Armie’s forehead soundly. Ruffles his hair.

 

“3 weeks of sex and food and travel and nap dates sound good to you?”

 

Armie laughs. “Make it 4 and you have a deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm obsessed with the idea of Timmy and Armie on vacation. Vacation imminent. 
> 
> I'm comfortably-numb on Tumblr.


End file.
